Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Micronesia and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Tim Buckley to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Camouflage. All the underground hits.
All The Real Kids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Young Marble Giants record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
David Axelrod,
Tres Demented,
The Neon Judgement,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Circle Jerks,
Panda Bear,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
ABBA,
Josef K,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Blancmange,
Robert Görl,
Marc Almond,
Metal Thangz,
Bill Near,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Sheep,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Duran Duran,
Public Image Ltd.,
FM Einheit,
Wasted Youth,
Black Flag,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sandy B,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Yellowson,
Ornette Coleman,
Maurizio,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dead Boys,
The Smoke,
One Last Wish,
Malaria!,
Terrestrial Tones,
John Cale,
Kayak,
Vladislav Delay,
June of 44,
Alison Limerick,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Henry Cow,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
Jacob Miller,
D'Angelo,
The Dave Clark Five,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Max Romeo,
Sparks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gang Green,
Maleditus Sound,
Nils Olav,
Jimmy McGriff,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.